For What of a Button
by TheScorpion0081
Summary: The Beldame, left broken by Coraline, made a deal with a ghost to regain her power and get revenge on her young adversary. Coraline must now work along side Sam and Dean Winchester to defeat her once and for all and find the true motives of her new associate.
1. Prelude

_For the last time, the answers is no!_

For your soul or the story?

**_BOTH!_**

Come now, it's not like your busy or anything.

_Don't you have a satanic summoning ritual to attend or something. *See you guys watching* Oh! What's up! Scorpion here, bring you "As My Sanity Turns" with guest star from _Supernatural, _Crowley. _

Your too kind. Now, it's not like I will take your soul if you don't write the crossover.

_Good to know because I'm wasn't going to even if you did._

Scorpion. Tell me, when was the last time you updated?

_None of you business._

I am giving you great crossover material. I have searched the net...

_Looking up single virgin women, I bet._

S&M, actually. And I found this lovely site called "FanFiction"

_How did you get from PORN to FanFict... on second thought, don't answer that._

And the one thing I haven't noticed was a good "Coraline" crossover.

_Probably wasn't looking hard enough. Wait... why "Coraline?"_

I have... unique tastes.

_I bet..._

So I figured, between soul collecting, I'd convince some budding writer to take a crack at it.

_And out of all the writers in the world, some with superior skill... you choose me. Because..._

Because your number came up, silly.

_**THIS ISN'T CUPCAKES!**_

I know that. *Eye towards audence* Good fic, by the way. I recommend it.

_**Ignore that!** Look, if I make this fic for you, will you let me get on with my life and leave my audience alone!_

What life?

_Screw You! UGH... Supernatural and it's characters belong to CW. Coraline (both movie and character) and her friends belongs to Neil Gaiman and Laika Studios_

_To my up most **dis**pleasure *Crowley smirks, deep breath*, Prelude..._

* * *

For What of a Button

A Supernatural/Coraline Crossover Fiction

By TheScorpion0081

Bata: DJexe

Once, there was a beautiful, pink apartment building sitting in a moonlit forest. It had an inviting presence, with its form ambiance and a vibrant garden surrounding it. Sure the forest was ugly and scary, but that was to keep the children from leaving her. The inside was warm, and always smelled of a home cooked meal, fresh and delicious. To the children, it was a paradise, for filling every dream and desire for love, nourishment, and happiness in their greatest time of need. To the Beldame, the creator of this world, it was the perfect web to snare her delicious and unwitting prey.

The atmosphere of the 'other' Pink Palace Apartment Complex was enough to draw children into the Beldame's world and keep them from leaving. Every piece of furniture clean and polished, every meal fresh and inviting, every activity planned and perfectly executed, every detail designed to tempt the child to stay with her forever. Everything was perfect…

…until, in the wake of one girl's tenacity, it was all unraveled.

Now, in her ruined domain, the Beldame sat. Once, she was beautiful, her youth, form and power maintained by a steady diet of the love in children's souls. Now, all of it was gone. Her true form laid bare and what little of her power is being taxed just to stay alive. If she had the power, or at least her missing right hand, she could make a new snare and start over.

To think, her entire web was left asunder by one girl. Coraline, who, despite appealing to her childish fantasy and giving her the attention that she desired so much, overcame her illusion and beat her at her own game. Plus, she freed the souls of her victims and left the Beldame in the sorry state she was currently in. She would have been furious if she wasn't so amused by how everything played out. How that girl was not only able to beat the creatures, but was also able to see though her gambit and escape with her three previous victims.

There was even a moment where the Beldame saw a little of herself in the tenacious child. There wasn't a day that went by that the creature thought about her defeat at the one who defeated her. She thought about the things she could have done different, the words to say, the traps and tricks she could have used. She replayed the game in her mind a hundred times, and each time made her want the girl more. However, she didn't just want her soul. Simply taking her soul as food was meaningless to the Beldame now.

She wanted Coraline to be hers. To have and hold. Forever.

Of course, that was just a dream no the Beldame didn't have the power to recreate her domain. She barely had enough to stay alive. She sat there, contemplating her hopeless situation. A second chance is all she needed to restore everything that she lost. A chance to make Coraline hers.

A whistle broke her train of thought. "Wow, I heard that some girl did a number on you," a rough, male voice echoed in a condescending tone, "but I didn't imagine that you would look so pathetic."

The creature panned her head around, trying to sense where the voice hailed from. Without her eyes, she could not see where the voice originated (that darn cat), so she felt for vibrations on her web. The echo, though weak, reverberated in the webbing, allowing the Beldame to determine that the voice came from behind her.

She turned quickly to meet the stranger, readying her remaining talons in defense against the threat. "Who is there and how did you get in my domain?" she demanded in a hiss. The Beldame was not sure how the intruder managed to get into her locked domain, but she knows that he was not staying.

"Easy there, mommy long-legs," the stranger quipped, "I come in peace. I don't pick fights with the handicapped. Not really fair. Nor is it good for business."

"Peace? You slither into my domain like a snake, insult my condition, then dare to claim that you come in peace in the same breath?" The Beldame was seething, offended by the gall of this soon-to-be-dead intruder.

"Yep!" the stranger squeaked without a moment's hesitation. "Besides on the off chance that I wanted to kill you…"

The Beldame listened intently, waiting for the stranger to finish as the air around her became as cold as ice. A whisper, from nowhere, entered her ear, "... we wouldn't be talking, now would we?"

The Beldame swung her arm around her, hitting only the air 'How did he get behind me?'

she thought, a shiver flying up her spine as she did.

"What are you swinging at?" the stranger said with a chuckle. This time the voice came from where it was originally. "Anyways, like I said from the get go, I didn't come here to intrude on your brooding. I heard about creatures like you. Honestly standing here now, I'm not impressed. though that's not really your fault, is it?"

"If you're done mocking my condition…"

"Touchy, touchy," The stranger said, further irritating the Beldame. he continued in a more serious tone. "Look,as much fun as it is getting under your skin… hide… thing, I'm here to make a business deal. A 'quid pro quo' of sorts. Interested?"

The thought made her furious. "Why would I want to do anything with you short of ripping your heart out of your chest?" The Beldame cracked her needle fingers, preparing to make good on her threat.

"Simple. Unless you WANT to bring your prey into this, uhmm… humbling abode, your power needs to be restored. More specifically, you need young souls. Now, I can assist with that avenue. And, for a limited time, I can help you triple that income of souls and make you stronger then ever before. With a few subtle changes to your hunting tactics. Soon, you will be lining up children's souls like the Pied Piper!"

The Beldame could not help but think about what this snake oil salesman was claiming. What kept her young over the centuries was souls. In the past, she wasn't as picky to what landed on her dinner plate. Men, women, children, elderly, and everything in between was fair game to her. It was only through experience that she learned that children were easier to claim. She would admit, however, that the income has dropped off at the turn of the century. Her power dropped off, limiting her movements to the Pink Palace. The three souls before Coraline moved in were all she could manage before the landlord limited the access to children by banning them.

If this offer was true, she could spread her influence to the nearby city. IF it was true…

"On the off chance that I were to consider this 'partnership,' what would you get out of it?" She inquired after giving it some thought.

"Well," the stranger began, "There is some things I do want out of this deal, but it won't be out of your pocket. All the souls I bring to you, you can keep. My payment from this deal will come elsewhere. Oh, before I forget, I heard it's polite to bring a gift to one of these meetings."

The stranger placed something on the web, from what she can feel. A familiar presence flowed between her and the object as a familiar tapping traveled towards her. It crawled up her leg, up her right side, and found itself on what remains of her right arm.

"My hand! But how did…"

"Long story. It involves a surprising amount of mud. By the way, you will be getting a bill from my dry cleaner." the stranger joked. "So, interested?"

The Beldame glided her left hand on the newly restored right. On the reconnected wrist, the was the key to the Pink Palaces door. Everything she need was in her grasp once again. She can start the hunt again. She could rebuild her domain. She could even…

"One condition." She proclaimed suddenly. She took the silence as a cue to continue, "There is a girl with blue hair. Coraline. I want her, but that is a venture that I want to deal with on my own terms. Until I am ready, she and her family is not to be touched."

There was a moment of silence before the stranger answered, "Sounds good to me. Now there are a few minor details that we need to go over before we finalize this agreement."

The Beldame fingered the key on her wrist. For the first time in a while, she was excited. "I'm listening."

* * *

_Happy!?_

AWWWW... You really want to talk about our feelings.

_I REALLY want you to get bent and GET OUT!_

All that aggression isn't good for your blood sugar.

_**OUT!**  
_

_*****Vanishes*_

_Sorry that you walked in on that. That's *hears Crowley laughing in the distance* NOT going to be the last time, sadly. So until next time, this is the Scorpion signing off. TTFN_

_P.S. :Thanks for you hard work, DJexe. Without you, this would not be as good looking as it is!_


	2. A Simple Day

_Crap, crap, crap, CRAP! I'm going to be late for work! Where are my keys? *checks wall table near door* I could have swore..._

Swearing is a good way to get in trouble with the big man up stairs. Hello, Scorpion!

_Crowley, I am running late! I seriously don't have time for you._

I figured that, so I took out a little... *reveals keys* insurance policy.

_Oh, you insufferable ass!_

Thank you! Now, I believe **we **had an agreement.

_**I MADE YOUR DAMN CHAPTER!**_

No, you agreed to make me a story in exchange for your solitude and the protection of your readers. One chapter a story doesn't make. Sooo... here's Crowley!

_That reference was terrible..._

Since taking your soul would be counter productive, I have to just make your life hell till I get what I want. So what will it be, the story or your job?

_You are not going to leave me alone if I said 'job', are you?_

Depends, do you want me to post your internet search history to your boss.

O.O... _S-Supernatual belongs to CW. Coraline belongs to Neil Gaiman and Laika Studios._

See, easy!

_Screw you! Well without further a due..._

Wait!

_**WHAT NOW!**_

Title Shot.

_**THIS! IS! TYPED!**_

Your fans will love you for it.

aaaaAAAA**AAAHHHHHH...!**

* * *

**SUPERNATURAL**

**_HAPPY!?_**

Delighted.

* * *

Chapter 1: A Simple Day

'_Once I rose above the noise and confusion…'_

Sam Winchester began to stir from his sleep as the car rode down the old pavement in the woods of Oregon. His head facing the passenger side window, the same position he was in when he fell asleep the night before. The morning was grey and wiry, a common occurrence in the Winchester brother's life it seems. The thick cloud cover was giving the wooded background a dull and lifeless tint. Cool, misty air that came in from the cracked windows and the browns, oranges, and reds that peppered the green of the passing trees only made the return of sleep more inviting. A goal not easily accomplished with music blaring.

'_...Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man…'_

Sam craned his groggy head towards the offending radio. His neck was still sore from a vampire's chokehold just a few hours earlier. It was one of those cases that, though it ended well, he just wanted to sleep off and forget. How Dean managed to let himself get suckered by a vampire girl, he would never know. All Sam knows is that if he ever had to see Dean in his KISS boxers ever again, he'd gauge his own eyes out.

Dean was bobbing his head to the music while he was driving. Somehow, he was more awake than Sam was, and he was driving throughout the night. He guessed that Dean stopped for coffee while he was sleeping. He noticed the empty paper coffee cup sitting in its holder that was not there the night before. What was really surprising was the oddly good mood Dean was in. Between all that's happened and the embarrassment night before, he expected Dean's mood to be a little less bright. _I wonder how far he got with that girl?_ a voice in his head thought. _Judging from his face, she was kind enough to keep her fangs in when she..._

Sam than imagined putting his hands around Lucifer's neck for putting that image in his head as he pressed against his scar.

_Kill joy..._

'_Carry on my wayward son...' _

Now Dean was very loudly singing along with the chorus. Not that he was bad at singing, but Sam was grouchy now. "Hey, Dean. That song was played out with the rocker hair. You do know that, right?" Sam groaned, lifting the seat upright, losing all hope of sleep.

"Well, morning to you too, Grumpy," Dean said with a grin. He never took his eyes off the road as he addressed his younger brother, "Don't knock _Kansas_. This song is like a morning prayer to me."

_Considering that he's been listening to that song every day for the past week, I don't doubt it. _Sam thought as he reached in the back seat to grab the two-day old doughnuts from the back. Not the breakfast he was hoping for, but he needed the sugar now. "Where are we heading to now?"

"Wherever the wind takes us, Sammy," Dean said, milking that good mood for all it is worth. "It's a new day, the birds are chirping, the sun is going to shine soon, and the monsters are bending over, waiting for their asskicking. As far as I can tell, it's going to be one of those days where things are normal!"

Sam rarely sees Dean this happy. Since Castial's death by the Leviathan and the Amy Pond incident, Dean was withdrawn. From the drinking to the nightmares, Dean was feeling the weight of his guilt on his shoulders and refused help from anyone. However, after he let out that guilt, he is returning to around where he was before Cas's death, with just the world on his shoulders, and not the entire universe.

"Hey, Sam, you gonna to swallow that bit you've been chewing, 'cause you are starting to scare me," Dean mocked as he noticed Sam staring.

Sam realized that he was spacing out and regained focus. Dean put his eyes back on the road with a chuckle, "If you're this quiet after a beat down, then maybe we should hunt vampires more often."

"Bite me," Sam deadpanned, now starting to miss the brooding.

_Lay your weary head to rest, Don't you cry no more._

The song ended, and quiet returned. "Hey, Sammy, any new cases close to us ?" Dean asked after a minute of silence. Sam opened his computer, mentally kicking himself for leaving it on his lap all night, and logged in. Of course, there was no internet in these woods, but he failed to log off when he and his brother rushed out of the hotel. After a romp in a vampire nest, the last thing any hunter wants to do is stay in the Sunshine State. Unlike what most movies and TV shows depict, vampires do not turn to dust when they die, and a house full of dead, decapitated bodies tends to draw attention from the law. Being on the FBI's Most Wanted list doesn't help matters either.

He looked at the news that he compiled from his surf through the net. "Let's see, '_Baby cooes the National Anthem,' '10,000 dollars spent by mother of 12,' 'DWI…,' 'Syria…,' 'Runaway Child still Missing,' 'Molly's new video..._'" Sam scanned all of his finding, looking for signs of anything unexplained or weird that up their alley. To his shock, there wasn't anything strange that was worth noting that the police can't handle or was close to their where they were. "Short of '_Two killer brothers still at large_,' there isn't anything weird or demonic happening that isn't within a two days drive from us."

Dean's eyes widened. "Seriously? Like, nothing at all?"

Sam kinda expected a reaction to their wanted post, but he moved on. "No. Just your normal everyday 'human' problems." he stated, the weight of having space in their proverbial calendar sinking in. True, a hunter can never truly have a day off, but to have a day where there is nothing that could kill them or is trying to kill them within 500 miles of their location is extremely rare. Sure, there were the leviathans that can strike at any moment, but even they were flying low for the time being now that Chet was gone.

"Hell yeah! No monsters, no demons, and no leviathan breathing down our necks? I'm telling you, Sam, today is shaping up to be a good day!" Dean celebrated as the next track plays on the radio. "I say that now we are out of the state, we find a nice take-out restaurant that makes greasy steak and bacon burgers, rent a movie, and just cut loose!"

Dean started bobbing his head to this song while Sam turned off his laptop, laughing at the goofiness. Sam knew that they should keep a low profile, but he also knew that after everything they have been though, they could use the momentary R&R. With the Leviathans silent for now, this probably the best time to recuperate and strategize. Both brothers let the prospect of a stress free day erase the hardships behind and ahead of them as they drove it to the city limits of Ashland.

000000

"Hey, Mom? You do know that I'm old enough to make my own lunches, right?"

The first day of October start out in a rush. Getting up to catch the bus was none too difficult for Coraline Jones. It is getting her parents up so they don't start their day late for work that proved to be a challenge. Mel and Charlie Jones are well-known for working late in the past year since they moved from Michigan. Thanks to their success on their gardening catalogs in print every month since last spring, the local newspaper requested that they write an article for the events occurring this fall. This would mean a bigger income if things go well, but as they quickly realized, it would also mean later nights and earlier mornings then normal for the Jones family.

"The last time you made yourself lunch, you almost got sick from the spoiled meat you used," Mel deadpanned before giving a yarn. "Sometimes, I'm fear that you get your cooking skills from your father."

The statement was not directed to anyone, but Charlie, sitting at the table sipping his coffee, overheard nonetheless. "You didn't have a problem with my cooking before!" he fired back. He then turned to his daughter next to him and gave his best smirk. "Heck, she never complained about the dinner I cooked for you on our first date."

Mel turned towards her husband. "Oh, yeah! I remember that date," she cooed, walking slowly into Charlie's waiting arms. "The flowers, the candles, the meal you worked so hard to make."

_Way too early for this_, Coraline thought, slowly losing her appetite.

Coraline's parents were look lovingly at each other as their face were moving closer together. Her dad was puckering his lips together when Mel placed her fingers on them, stopping his movement. "You were lucky to get a second date after that meal," she said with a smirk, pull herself out of his grasp and returning to finish her daughter's lunch. Coraline winced at the sharp statement, feeling the temperature of the room drop ten degrees.

"Wait," Charlie yelped, visibly annoyed by her jabbing, "Didn't you tell me that you loved my cooking?"

"No, Honey," she corrected without turning to look at him, "I said 'I love your company'. I tolerated the cooking."

Coraline couldn't help but giggle at the remark. Her dad slid back in his chair in a pout, but eventually joining in the laughter alongside her mother. He thought about the year before, when they first moved in to the Pink Palace from their lives in Michigan. It was a rough couple of weeks that took a toll on their relationship. The move was rough on everyone, especially on Mel and Coraline. His wife engrossed herself in her work after they settled in their new home and their daughter began to feel ignored and began to drift away from them. Though he tried in his own way to fix the strain between the two, he couldn't help but feel that things were going to get worse before they got better. Then, suddenly, they walked in the door to a distraught Coraline. For reasons was not explained, she acted like she has Seen something terrible happened to them. Mel and Charlie decided that she fell asleep and had a nightmare. Since then, however, she was more understanding and kinder towards her parents. The sudden if this change is the biggest surprise to them, when not hours earlier, she was ready to live in "Other World" as she called it. Since then, Mel and Charlie also tried to be more empathetic to her. She understood now that they have to give their full attention to their work while they are working, and they try to take out more time to spend time together.

Of course, having a friend like Wyborn doesn't hurt either, Charlie thought.

As if on cue, there was a buzz from the door. Though everyone stopped the laughter to confirm the sound, the Joneses already knew who the visitor was on the other side. "Mom! I'm going to be late! Is it ready yet?" Coraline fussed, not wanting her and Wyborn to miss for the bus.

"Just finished bagging, now get out of here," her mom commanded, handing Coraline her lunch as she bolted for the door. Before she was halfway down the hall, she ran back into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Mel's waist. The gesture was quick and a bit tight, but genuine as Mel hugged her in response. After the embrace, she turned towards her dad and quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek before running to the door at twice the speed.

"Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad! Love ya!" Coraline yelled back. With that, she was out the door, flying past Wyborn as she headed towards their bus stop.

Coraline barely greeted her friend with a quick wave and a "Hey, Wybie" before hopping down the stairs and running down the main road. She checked her watch and, seeing that she had four minutes before the bus arrived, ran faster than she ever thought she could. She didn't even looked behind her to notice that Wyborn was barely keeping up to her.

"Jeez, Jonesy! Were you powering your nose or something?" Wyborn asked in annoyance while trying to catch his breath.

"Sorry, late start. Mom wanted to make me lunch," Coraline huffed as she spoked. "Got carried away. Long story. No time. Gonna be late."

"Yeah, well," Wyborn began as his side started to cramp, "try to get your lunch ready the night before! If I miss this bus again, grandma is going to kill me!"

Both children turn their attention on getting to the bus stop. The stop was just down the road from their apartment building. However, getting their involved going through a poorly paved road, the same one Wyborn goes up to get to the nearly rundown Pink Palace. With a safe pace and more time, It would take ten minutes to get to the bus stop. Problem is, more time was something they did not have. The bus will arrive any minute, and the driver was the type of guy who would just strand kids at a bus stop if he thought he could get away with it. Despite the protest of their bodies, slowing down was not an option.

Coraline and Wyborn could see the main intersection where the bus stop was and, to their relief, fellow students that is still waiting for their bus to school. They had high hopes on not having to ask their parents to give them a ride to school. Especially for Wyborn, who grandmother lacks the patients to deal with some of the foolishness that he is known for.

That hope dashed when, while turning the corner, Coraline bumped into an old man and fell to the ground. Wyborn quick ran to his friend's aid, propping her up off the ground when a quick scan determined that she was not injured. "Are you alright?" Wyborn asked, worry clear in his voice.

"I feel like I just hit a brick wall," Coraline huffed as she shook the stars out of her head, "other than that, I'm fine."

Once they were both up, the angry Wyborn turned to the old man to chew him out for not paying attention. However, as soon as the children got a good look at the old man, they both fell still. Coraline and Wyborn, whose fury has disappeared, now felt an unshakeable sense of dread.

The old man was taller and extremely skinny, with sunken in cheeks, his thinning black hair , and the rims of his eye sockets frighteningly visible. He wore a crisp and finely pressed black suit that seemed to hang off his body instead of it fitted. The black duster seems to only accentuated that fact, making him look like he could be knocked down with a passing breeze. This make the fact that Coraline was the only one that fell on impact more jarring. In his bony right hand was slender, steel tipped cane and a silver ring with a pale white gemstone adorned his . _This guy either looks like he is going to or coming from a funeral,_ Coraline thought. _Not his own, I hope._

Though his attire alone could have sent chills up their spine alone, it was making eye contact that made them cold. Brown eyes that seem to stand out on his pale, wrinkled face. They seemed to stare into their souls, gauging the very worth of their lives. The feeling of insignificant and fear welled in the children's chest as they looked into the mans eyes. To Wyborn, this was a fear unlike any other he felt. To Coraline, it was an all too familiar feeling. The same feeling she got a year ago. The same feeling she got when that witch locked her in that cold room for not acting like a 'loving daughter'.The same feeling when she learned of her parents kidnapping. The same feeling she had when she lost the key to finding them. Hopelessness. Loneliness.

The feeling that the end was near, and there was nothing she could do about it.

_NO! NOT AGAIN! I WON'T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!_

As quickly as the thought came to her, Coraline grabbed Wyborn by his uniform collar and quickly bowed towards the man, forcing her friend to do the same. "I'm sorry, mister! My friend and I were running late and weren't paying attention! You're not hurt, are you?" she humbly exclaimed to the stranger, seemingly begging to be spared the cold fury that lies in his dead eyes.

"Jonsey! What are you doing? I wasn't the one who b... OUCH!," Wyborn began to protest before a sharp pain from his foot forced his compliance. He glared at Coraline's offending foot as it quickly retreated to its point of origin before taking a breath. "I'm sorry, too. We should've watched where we're going," he finally said in annoyance.

The stranger only stood there, staring at them in that same cold glare. Coraline and Wyborn still felt the eyes on them, but that feeling of the walls closing in was beginning to subside little by little. They heard a raspy breath before the man finally began to talk. "I have met a lot of children like you in my long life," the man began in a flat, almost irritated tone, "all of them rash, arrogant, and full of themselves. They squander the moments going after trivial pursuits, not caring about the toes they step on along the way. They don't think that maybe their next step may cut their moments short, or that the one the toe belong to maybe doing the cutting. They would only ask for a second chance when it's too late to salvage their loss."

All three of them heard the school bus round the corner, but the man continued anyway. "Now, I was already in an unpleasant mood before you slammed into me like a test dummy, and I am not the type to forgive," Coraline and Wyborn's hearts jumped a beat when they heard that. A hand rested on Coraline's shoulder, signaling her to straighten back up. "However, since you seem sincere in your apology, I am willing to give you a reprieve. Something I don't regularly do in my line of work."

He removed his hand and began walking past them, gently brushing the area Coraline hit with his free hand. He was just about to cross the street before he stopped. "Life is fleeting, young Coraline. I suggest you enjoy the time you have instead of spending it rushing. Or do something that gives your life a little more value," he said before he began crossing. "I'd also avoid running into any more 'walls,' if I were you."

Coraline and Wyborn continued to stare at the man as he continued down the road. Coraline couldn't help but contemplate what he said before being shook by her companion, pull her mind back to their original problem. "Come on! The bus is about to leave us!"

They both turned towards the bus as the last of their schoolmates boarded the bus. They sprinted the last few feet, nearly jumping inside the bus as the doors closed.

"What! Do you brats want to be left! Seven o' clock. On. The. Dot. Don't think that I won't leave you to the wolves just 'cause y'all kids," the driver berated them as the two walked to the empty seats in the back of the bus.

As the bus moved, Coraline let her mind drift to what the man said. Something about that whole situation did not sit well with her. Wyborn tapped her on her shoulder, breaking her train of thought. "That was just plain weird. And kind of scary, too," he said, recalling the events of the morning.

"Tell me about it," she huffed. She didn't realize that she was holding that breath since she sat down. "I swear, I will never run late again if it means not seeing that creepy guy again."

"Amen to that," he said. "Oh, and by the way, I won't forget how you stepped on my foot. These are new shoes, you know!"

"Yeah, sorry about that."

They both gave a nervous chuckle before Coraline realized what about that speech bother her. "Hey, Wybie. Did you use my name while we were with that guy?"

The boy thought about it for a moment, but shrugged. "Things happened so fast that I wasn't thinking about it. I think I said 'Jonesy' once, but I can't remember."

Coraline thought about it as bewilderment formed on her face. "Then how did he know my name?"

Wyborn simply sat back on his seat and closed his eyes, "Personally, I'd rather just forget that ever happened. We caught the bus and are on our way to school. Right now, that's all I want to care about."

Coraline watched as her friend drifting as bus shook. _He's right, _she thought, _maybe I'm over thinking it._ She sat back and let the passing trees distract her mind from that morning as they rode to school.

* * *

Gee... I wonder who that old man suppose to be?

_Yes, Crowley, we all know who he is. Can I get my keys now?_

Why should I give them back?

_Because... uhmm.._

You'll kill me?

_YES!... *facepalm* oh, wait..._

You can't can you? No salt because of your mother's pressure, No _Ruby's Knife _because, well, that's TV land, and your not holy enough for holy water. That, and the only language you know is english. Short of Divine Assistance, you are not getting rid of me!

*Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock... DING!* _Hold that thought!_

Hey, you guys dare me to give you his password. Well, it's... *WACK!* Oww! What did you just hit me with!

_MY FAMILY BIBLE_!

HAHAHA...! You think that a book is going to stop me?

_Nope! But I know its HEAVY!_

Oh, sh... *vanishes before the large book hits again*

_That was irritating. So, since my life depends on it, I have to finish this story. I'll try to keep the uploads consistent. Hopefully, that will keep Hell's leftovers out of my house. This is the Scorpion, signing...wait... SHIT, I'M GOING TO BE LATE!?_

PS: I have a friend, DJexe, who normally does my bata work. I would like to thank him for his hard work again. That said, six eyes are better than four. So if anyone can offer their service when he's not able or just every once in a while, I will be grateful.


	3. Ghosts of the Past

"**Are you okay?"**

_I'm fine now, but I'm stuck in the closet till he leaves._

"**How about you check to see if he's there anymore."**

_Hold on, I'll check *moves head towards the door and listens*_

*In the distance* Scorpion? Hello? Marco?

_Yup, still out there. *Notice Audience* Huh, I have a bigger closet then I thought… Anyway, what's up everyone! Scorpion here, stuck between a rock and a hard spot... _

"**AKA, the closet."**

_Don't remind me. With me on Skype is my beta and brother-from-another-mother (and father, before you ask), DJexe. Say 'Hi,' DJ._

" **Hello, DJexe here. Working hard or hardly working?"**

_Funny. While we were finishing up this chapter, who would come-a knocking but freakin' Crowley. Course, don't want to talk to him, so I went to the safest place I can think of._

"**How in the world is your closet the safest place you could think of!? I would have thought that you could choose an attic or something with actual space."**

_I know, not one of my better choices, but it was spur of the moment, so sue me. Anyway, done on your end?_

"**With the editing?"**

_What do you think?_

"**Relax. No need to be snippy with me. I got you covered."**

_Well, since every one of importance is here, lets continue._

"**What about the jackass soul collector?"**

_Screw him. Now, we all know the technical bits to the story right? Like how I don't own anything? _

"_**Let's just get this show on the road!"**_

_Alrighty then, *Clears Throat* Chapter 2..._

* * *

Ghosts of the Past

After four more hours of driving, the Winchesters finally settled down in a motel on the other side of town. Once they secured their room (guns under pillow, a hex bag sweep, and placing their own hex bags on the door stops and window seals), they officially started their brotherly day off. Though, in these rare occasions, they could never truly agree to how to spend their day. However, there is one consensus about where to begin.

They stared at each other with daring eyes, then at the lone bathroom provided by the motel. Within its confines, was a lone shower and a fresh bar of soap. These tools would be their release from the grime, blood, and other unpleasantries that now taints their bodies. Not that they never had a shower in a long time, but between the lethiavans, angels, demons, and everything in between, the time to enjoy the feeling of a long, hot, pleasant shower was something rare.

They looked at each other with strong intent in their eyes. They both wanted enjoyment out of their rinse. The Winchesters came closer together, keeping eye contact the whole time, their breath heavy with anticipation. Things didn't always go like this, but when they did, they were always memorable. Just like this will be. Sam and Dean, passionate in what they about to do, raised their hands in front of them, and…

_Slap, slap, slap, SLAP!_

"SON OF A BITCH!"

"Scissors again, Dean?" Sam asked smugly, winning shower privileges for the next hour in a game of rock-paper-scissors. He was about to walk in to claim his prize, but saw Dean in the stance again. They played once again, with Dean, again, playing scissors. _And he wonders why I keep winning, _Sam thought as he strutted into the bathroom, milking the moment for all it's worth.

"Come on, Sammy! I got cuddled by a vampire, for cryin' out loud!"

"Better a vampire then Becky!" Sam yelled through the door.

Dean simply nodded. _There's no arguing' with that._ He grabbed his things and walked to the door. He should have rested after that long drive, but those donuts were wearing off. "I'm going to grab us some lunch, and a movie. You want anything?"

"If you can find a good chief's salad…" Sam started, but Dean was out the door before he heard the rest of his brother's order. _Sometimes, I forget that Sam was cross-bred with a rabbit _was the last thought he had before hopping into his _Challenger _and driving off.

Dean didn't know where he was going, but he always had this skill of finding a greasy spoon on instinct alone, so he just turned on his built-in radar went in that direction. As he rode down the street away from the motel, Dean's thoughts began to drift into the past. He wasn't a big fan of these trips down memory lane. He wasn't a big fan of all the mistakes that he made, all the lies he told, and all the decisions he made that lead him to this point. Letting Sam leave for college and letting his dad all but disown him when he did: the car crash that forced the great John Winchester to sell his soul, allowing Sam death at that Psychic Ranch, then selling his soul to get him back, not trying hard enough to stay out of Hell, then giving in to the demons demands, starting the apocalypse, allowing Sam to fall into Ruby's trap, which allowed Lucifer to make bail, Ellen and Jo's deaths, then not saying yes to Michael, forcing the archangel to take Adam instead, agreeing to let Sam say yes, thus being taken by Lucifer, being powerless to stop Sam and Adam from falling into the Cage, his short retirement from hunting. Then there was Lisa and Ben, Castiel's fall from the path and the leviathan and Amy Pond…

The more he thought, the more it seemed like every waking second of his life was to cause suffering to himself and the people around him. He tried to be the man his father wanted him to be but every time he stepped up, someone got stepped on.

Dean got tired of feeling like crap, so he cranked up his CD. He shook the images of the past out of his head. _I'm on vacation, dammit! _he thought to himself as he took a gulp of his now cold coffee, _and there is nothing that is going to stop me from enjoying it!_

Two Bon Jovi songs later, Dean found a dive near an old truck stop that seemed slow despite the fact that it is lunch time. He didn't care, for that meant no lines, and as long as they had a juicy sirloin or a bacon cheeseburger (or a bacon cheeseburger made with ground sirloin), all the better. If Lady Luck isn't as much of a bitch as he grew up believing, they would also have pecan pie.

'_Oh, right, Sam's veggies. Can't forget that,' _Dean noted in a huff.

He parked his Challenger in front of the door. Like always, he took stock of his surroundings before he walked through the door. The emptiness of the parking lot began to unsettling. He spelled the cooking from just out the door, and the thought relocated to the back of his mind. Normally, his suspicion of the situation would take precedence, but his growling stomach wouldn't have it. If it was going to die, it was going to die full. So Dean checked his sidearm, concealed it in the back of his pants with his denim jacket over it, and walked in.

The cashier, an old, cream skin woman, was standing behind the register in a slump. Once she saw Dean stop in front of her and began scanning the menu, however, she straightened up her posture and primed her hair. "Hello, handsome," she said in a fashion that was nowhere near professional, "What can I help you with this lovely afternoon?"

Dean stopped when he saw her face. The way she stared at him as starting to make him somewhat uncomfortable, but he shook it off and placed his order. She gave him a wink, then went to give the ticket to the cook.

Dean figured that it would take a moment for the food to cook, so he took the time to survey the diner. It was relatively small, with eleven circular tables arranged in a tight square, and tables and benches mounted on the far wall. The place was old, likely older than he was, with a lot of the decorations fading with time. However, the place was clean, well-kept, and well-lit.

He walked around the diner, admiring the classic scenery, but became unnerved when the most important detail came to mind. '_WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYONE?' _Dean thought as he checked his watch. It was half past noon, the peak of the lunch rush. Yet, the diner was empty. No wait staff, no customers, the only people in the building where the cashier, whoever is cooking the food that he is smelling, and himself.

After some more looking about, he did notice someone sitting in the far corner facing away from him. The fact that he didn't notice the guy till now surprised the hunter . Curious, Dean stepped closer to the old man in the corner, initially to see what he was having. As he got closer, the old man's features slowly revealing themselves. Pale skin, a black duster, a silver ring…

_Oh, damn…_

Dean began to back pedal towards the door, forgetting about the food he ordered. If it was who he hoped it was not, he should avoid being noticed. '_I'm not here... You don't see me... I'm not here... You don't see me...'_

"Sit, Dean," commanded the cold, stern voice emanating from figure's place.

'_DOUBLE DAMN!'_ Dean cursed in thought, struggling to contain his outrage.

Retreating now pointless, Dean reluctantly took a seat across from Death himself. As he did, he determined the answer to his earlier question. Humans, despite the many arguments to the contrary, are not as disconnected to nature as most would like to believe. Most people, unless drunk, high, stupid, and/or too young to know any better, will instinctively avoid supernatural threats. They avoid haunted houses are barren, cemeteries and dead forests, and become uncomfortable with hospitals and funeral homes for this reason. Expert hunters normally fall under two categories; those who have learned to push away that survival instinct, and those who keep up and learned to use that instinct to find and deal with their prey. John was an expert in the latter and Sam picked up that skill the hard way, which is why he scoured for the cases they worked.

Dean, running in to Death by sheer coincidence, was regrettably the former.

Death continued to eat what looked like fried mushrooms as Dean waited for anyone to break the silence. Dean felt the temperature increase at least ten degrees as he waited. This was not the first meeting with the oldest of the Four Horsemen, but he is not going to risk pissing off the guy who can just end his life without warning.

"They say that this diner has the best fried mushrooms in Ashland," Death lamented, breaking the uneasy silence, though things still felt uneasy, "Since this the first time trying them, I can't say if they are right or wrong. But I can definitely say that this is an interesting dish, regardless." He popped another mushroom in his mouth, visibly enjoying the flavor.

"I guess you are not the type to worry about clogged arteries?" the nervous Dean chuckled. A cold glare from the head reaper quickly brought back the silence.

"I may look human, Dean, but I have no arteries to clog to begin with," Death answered, humoring Dean's joke. He pushed a small plate towards the nervous hunter, then tipped his own basket over it, allowing a few of the fried mushrooms to fall on the plate.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Dean said as politely as he possibly could. A rare occurrence, he would admit.

Almost as if cued by a trickster, the cashier walked up to Dean and presented two large paper bags. "One order of the ground steak and bacon burger, with extra fries, and one order of the grilled chicken salad with caesar dressing and a side of whole wheat toast," she chirped. Dean, without turning his head, eyed the bags with a glare that could set them on fire if possible. He slowly grabbed the bags as the kindly and the unaware waitress dug the hole deeper, "I requested the cook to make a fresh pecan pie, so it will be about a half hour before it's ready. We will give you a second slice for your trouble, on the house." With that, the waitress returned to her station, leaving the blushing Dean with Death.

"'Not hungry,' right?" the reaper asked flatly.

'_So, I'm sitting' in front of a man who is possibly older than GOD, who has just caught me doing something that was, by every definition of the word, _stupid'. Dean thought quickly for a second. '_What would Cas do?'_

"Umm… no," Dean said in a nervous chuckle, sliding back in his chair. He quickly covered the lie by changing the subject. "So, what brings you to these parts?"

Death, unfazed by the change in topic, took another bite of his fried mushrooms, and then wiped his mouth with the table napkin. "Like you, I wanted to take a break from reaping. Had to deal with a riot on the other side of the world, over a hundred souls to reap," Death answered nonchalantly. "I have a team of reaper's cleaning up the last of the mess. Which reminds me, I have a favor to ask of you."

Dean simply blinked. The sudden changes of topic caused some whiplash. It still amazes him how the guy can go from talking about mass killings to something as casual as asking for a favor in the same breath. Then again, he was associating human qualities with the Grim Reaper.

"I was given news about an issue occurring in these parts," Death continued after swallow another fried mushroom, "that some of the recently deceased has not crossed over."

"Considering the madness in Heaven and, well, freakin' Hell, I'm not surprised that people are taking different options," Dean admitted freely, remembering that crossing over is a choice. They would not have to deal with ghosts if the reapers were not so diplomatic in that area.

"That would be interesting if it was true," Death corrected, "Most souls are willing to crossover if it means internal peace. They don't all get that, but telling them their destination is neither our job nor our concern."

"Have you ever considered advertising," Dean joked. "Probably should get your boys to lighten their mood."

"I could do that," Death began, voice lowered from the growing annoyance, "if my reapers weren't being beaten to the souls."

With that, Dean's mood became serious. "Recently, the number of crossing souls has dropped over the past year. My reapers have arrived to bodies with no souls to ferry. Normally, they would simply move on to the next body, since there are other souls to reap. However, the frequency of these events has become a matter of interest."

"Didn't know you cared," Dean said offhandedly.

"I don't, really," Death admitted, "but the balance must be preserved, and missing souls eventually adds up." Death took the last of the fried mushrooms and polished it off. "Plus, there is the matter of one of my reapers going missing."

"Wait, what? One of the reapers went missing?" Dean said in shock, but went to a whisper to prevent drawing attention from the cashier. Reapers are known to stay out of sight except to those who are dead or dying. Plus, they can kill just by touching someone, with Death being able to do it just by thinking. So for any reaper to just fall off the radar isn't normal. "Don't you, like, keep track of them?"

"This is the other reason why I'm here." Death wiped his hands of the oil and continued. "Thanks to the near apocalypse, many of the reapers perished to break the locks on Lucifer's Cage. I'm short-staffed, and I don't really care for accepting applications."

A thought came to mind that made Dean quiver. "So… you want me to…," Dean began, drawing attention to the ring on Death's finger.

"No. Once was enough," the Reaper said with uncharacteristic quickness. He cleared his throat and moved on. "I'm still cleaning up the mess from the last time you were a reaper. Besides, that won't change the fact that souls are still going missing. No, this is something more in your original expert in this area."

"My job is preventing me from giving this 'inconvenience' the attention it rightfully deserves, and I can't spare more reapers to deal with it. You and your brother, however, just so happen to have arrived here with a clear schedule. So, I want you to find out who, or what, have interfered with the flow of souls and remove it in only the way you know how."

Dean sat there, absorbing and processing the information he just received. "Hold on, you want us do your job because you're shorthanded?" Dean questioned. Whether or not this is a legitimate problem, the Winchesters was no one's lap dogs. They had already made the mistake of working for Crowley, and now look at where they were: Cas was gone, the leviathans were loose, the monster problem had increased, and the world's in trouble again. Sure, Sam's very soul was on the line, but the damage was still done. "Why don't you get some other sucker to do your dirty work?"

"Because," Death began without hesitation, "unlike 'some other sucker,' I have given you the means to throw Lucifer back in the pit, your brother's soul from said 'pit,' a reprieve from my wrath, with you would have deserved considering, AND given you a second chance to throw God's Oldest Creations back in Purgatory. Which, by the way, you botched spectacularly!" Death's voice didn't rise a single octave from normal, but the intensity was felt throughout the diner. "Though I gave you the first for free and you did earn the second, you still owe me for the last two. Consider this the day where I get my due."

Dean couldn't even speak. The weight of that list was laid bare in front of him. He did not want to admit it, but he did ask a lot from Death. It was only on a whim that he did half of those things. He could have easily just said 'no' and let the world rot without so much as a moments guilt. Dean definitely didn't want to let something boss them around, but now, with everything he knows about this Horseman and what he's done and is capable of, the best option was to not get on his bad side. He had too much to lose if he said no. Besides, if people were in danger, it was his and his brother's job to deal with it however they can. It is the family business, after all.

With a reluctant sigh, Dean took one of the fried mushrooms that Death shared with him and ate it. Finally swallowing it, he answered, "Alright, where do we start?"

00000000

Third bell was lunch period. Any student's favorite time of the school day other than seventh bell, this was the end of the day. The cafeteria crowded once again, with hungry student getting to the lines to wait for their meals. Normally, they weren't as eager to eat whatever the school's kitchen had, which was capable of making them lose their breakfast if anything else. However, today, as thanks for the upperclassmen clean up of the local park the month earlier and the fund-raiser before then, the local pizzerias banded together and made the school pizzas along with the scheduled lunches. Because of this, it took Wyborn fifteen minutes to grab his slices. It was half the lunch bell passed by the time he joined Coraline, but it was well worth it. Coraline, having brought the sandwich, chips, cookies and juice box her mother packed, envied his luck.

The two both sat at their usual spots in the cafeteria. Their table was empty, but it was not a bother to them. They were not considered outcasts at the slightest; however, considering the qualifications to get in to the 'popular tables' (and what they been though), they both found it wiser just to keep to themselves. Students sometimes sat with them, mostly to get away from their other friends or just to find a moment's peace, but not today. It was great for Wyborn, now he can talk about the gross-thing-of-the-week without being called a weirdo, which even he would admit he was. No matter what day it was, the boy always had some sort of gross, creepy, or morbid story to share.

Today's story was none of these. But it was still weird.

"So, before the commercial break, they started to talk about how there are things that can overshadow other living beings. Once they are in your body, they can make you do whatever they want and you can't stop them," Wyborn recalled, with his mouth half full with pizza.

"You can't just have a normal conversation, can you?"

"Why? Ghosts and monsters are a lot more fun to talk about," the excited Wyborn countered. "Besides, you can't pull the 'Ghosts aren't real' card, Doll Girl."

A flash of the ghost children and the Beldame made the girl wince. It was a memory that Coraline has been struggling to forget since her encounter with them. She knew Wybie meant it a joke, making light what was dark. He didn't know about the times that she spent nights with her parents out of fear of losing them, or the times she could have sworn she saw the witch while on her way to school, or the nightmares that plagued her often, or that mornings she woke in cold sweats and had to remind herself that the world she is in was real, or the constant fear of waking up one morning and seeing buttons in people's eyes. Wyborn thought that she got over it, as she played off every mention of that time. He thought of her as strong and collected, a façade that she worked hard to keep up.

Coraline took a deep breath, and chuckled, "I can't, but that won't stop me from thinking you're crazy." She reached for her slice of pizza, quickly enough to prevent him from noticing that her hand was shaking. '_Calm down, girl. It was just a joke. This is the real world, and nothing can hurt you here.'_

"Well anyways," Wyborn continued, "They said that a lot of things can use you as a meat suit." Coraline gave him a disgusted look. "Hey, their words, not mine. The only effective way to evict a ghost is to pour salt in yours or the victim's mouth. Cool, right?"

'_Not really', _thought Coraline as she took a bite of her pizza, '_The less sci-fi in my life at this point, the better.'_ However, the more she thought about it, the more curious she got. She decided to humor him. "Hey, Wybie? How is that supposed to help if you are already possessed? And what if there is no salt around to use?"

Wyborn thought about the question for a second. "Huh, don't know. But they did hear rumors about people taking back control by sheer force of will. They haven't seen it first hand, though. It turns out; possession isn't too common for ghosts. Something about 'having the energy to overshadow someone's will' or something like that."

Coraline, partly invested in what he was saying, saw someone sit down from the corner of her eye. The newcomer was a girl from one of her classes, Alexis DuPree. Coraline didn't know much about the red-headed girl. No one really did. Alexis mostly kept to herself and stayed quiet. They have talked a few times before, but only about school work. She is pretty nice the few times they conversed, and most teachers and some other students would agree. However, Coraline never really saw Alexis hangout with anyone. She was always huddled up somewhere either with a book or deep in thought.

"Hey, Jonesy…"

Alexis was deep in thought again as she always was. She didn't have any lunch with her, which struck Coraline as odd because '_Who didn't like pizza?' _Another thing that struck her as odd was the fact that Alexis had on her thick, black jacket buttoned up to her neck. She did see her with it when they entered class that morning, and it wasn't against the rules as long as your uniform was on under it, but it was way too warm to wear it in the school. Especially with a fourth of the student body inside the cafeteria, making it much warmer.

"Hey! Earth to Jonesy…"

In fact, she always seem to have that jacket on. Coraline remembered that on the first day of class, Alexis had that same jacket on. Buttoned up and everything. Some of the students and teachers mentioned it to her a few times that day since she was visibly uncomfortable. However, she just told them that she was fine and nothing else. No one who knew her has said anything since, but they do carry worried looks when they see her though.

"CORALINE, WAKE UP!"

"Huh? What?" Coraline turned towards Wyborn. She didn't realize that she zoned out at the moment and felt the whiplash as she reentered reality.

"Are you going to just sit there, Doll Girl, or are you going to finish those cookies?" he asked with one eyebrow up. Both slices of pizza were gone from his plate, now he seemed to be eyeing her remaining lunch. She must have lost her appetite with all the ghost and possession talk, barely touching her remaining chips and not even thinking about the cookies. Shame too, since her mom went through the trouble to bake them.

Wyborn switch his expression from confusion to worry, but Coraline answer, "I guess I'm just full."

She turned back to their other guest. Alexis was just laying her head on her arms, paying no mind at the two. Coraline thought she was sleeping at first, but notice her shaking somewhat.

"Excuse me? Alexis right?" she called to the girl. Alexis slowly rose her head to meet Coraline's face. Her eyes were bloodshot and bags formed under them. Exhaustion was the first guess, however she must have cried earlier due to how glossy they were. Coraline shifted her gaze to Wyborn, who met hers. He must have thought the same thing

"Y-Yes, that's me," she finally spoke, voice cracking. "Am I bothering you two? Sorry, I'll just move."

As she rose from the table, both Coraline and Wyborn raised their hands in protest. Wyborn spoke, "Whoa, hold on a sec! No one said that you were bothering us! You're fine."

Coraline shook her head in agreement. "Yeah, I was just wondering if you were alright. You don't seem to have your lunch with you, and you don't look too good."

Alexis, noticing what she was implying, quickly reached with her jacket to rub her eyes, only to give a smile as she did. "I-I'm fine. Just forgot my lunch money at home."

The two, again gave a quick look at each other, before back to her. Coraline spoke again. "Have you tried calling home? I'm sure your folks can…"

She stopped when she noticed Alexis turned her head away. The somber look that formed on her face spoke more volumes than the two expected, but she answered, "My parents aren't home. I couldn't contact them."

"Oh." Coraline looked at Wyborn. He had a submissive look on him as he knew what was coming. She grabbed the cookies and slid them to their table guest. Alexis looked at the snack then at one giving them to her.

"Thank you, but I don't-" Alexis started before Coraline raised her hand in protest.

"Don't give me the 'I don't want your pity' speech. I don't want them and I'm not giving them to greedy over here." She felt daggers hitting her face from Wyborn's glare, but continued. "It would be a shame to let them go to waste, so I'm giving them to you."

"Take my word for it," Wyborn added, "Mrs. Jones makes the best cookies. It's not easy to get Jonesy to give just one up, I should know."

Alexis thought about their words and conceded. "Thank you."

Upon opening the wrapper, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. The students began to file out of the cafeteria, Coraline and Wyborn slowly following suit as Alexis ate the cookies that was given to her, visibly cheering up as they walked away.

"Well look at you, 'Coraline Jones! Saving the world one cookie at a time,'" Wyborn teased. "Tune in next time where Jonesy saves people from giant space slugs!"

Coraline could help but laugh at the jib from her friend. "I'm starting to get the feeling that you have a slug obsession, Wybie. Maybe I should get some salt and see if…"

She stops moving and falls silent. Wyborn continues to walk forward before he notice that Coraline froze in place. He sees her face contort from amusement to a mix of anger and, more prominently, fear. He walks up to see if his friend was alright, then he notices the sound. It was inaudible earlier due to clashing sound of leaving classmates, but now it was a bit clearer. Behind his startled friend, Alexis was just sitting there with no interest in returning to class. While she ate the cookies, she was humming a tune to herself. It was a subtle melody that made the once despondent girl brightens up. To Wyborn Lovat, it was an unfamiliar song that was as meaningless as it was soothing.

To Coraline Jones, however, the simple melody was all too familiar, one that she could never forget. Her friend did not know the melody because it was only known to only one other _thing _other than Coraline. It was a song that no other living person could or should know. There was only one way Alexis could know that song. '_But that's impossible! I locked that door and threw away that key last year! There's no way she could return… There's no way the Beldame could return… There's no way…_

'_There's no…'_

She did not see Wyborn run towards her. She did not feel her legs giveaway under her. The last thing she heard was her friend screaming, calling to her from what feels like miles away. The last thing that entered her mind was a snide whisper, defiling the voice of her mother, doing the same.

* * *

_Okay, that's todays chapter, _

"**Not bad if I do say so myself.**"

_It took a little longer to get done, but better late than never, I say! _With that vile, disgusting, arrogant, butt licking, smelly old crone off my back, I say that this was pretty enjoyable.

"**Uh Scorpion?"**

_So chapter three will be in the works, and I might upload a chapter of my other project just to give you a taste of what's to come. So stay tuned!_

" _**Hey, Scorpion, he's right here."**_

_This is the Scorpion, signing off._

_***Slaps Scorpion* "HEY!"**_

_Ugh, what, DJexe!? And how the hell did you hit me though the internet!?_

"_**Because I'm that good and HE'S RIGHT NEXT TO YOU!"**_

*Looks and see Crowley next to him* Holy, sh-

I knew I smelled the stench of nerd somewhere around here. Hello boys.

"**Tried to warn you, man. Hello, Jackass**"

After that mess with some hunters in Georgia, a nice update really settled the old bones. By the way, do I really smell that bad? I wash this meat suit twice a day and use cologne.

_Umm… Yes!? :-D_

"**Real smooth, idiot.**"

Did you forget that I'm the King of Hell?

_That's cool, but I just remembered that I have to get to work, so I'm just going to go ahead and let you enjoy that. *Exits closet*_

So, you're out of the closet?

"**Technically, you could say he's 'cleaning out his closet'**"

_Both of you are funny. By the way... *Points up to the closet ceiling*_

*Crowley sees a Devil's Trap painted there* Oh, you cheeky little-

_That's nice. So, while I go to make this money, you enjoy being 'King of the Closet' _

_I WON'T FORGET THI- *Door slams shut*_

"**That was so worth it."**

_I thought it would be best to come prepared this time. Good job selling it. Anyway, I'll see all of you next time. Question, how long were you going to wait to tell me that Crowley was in there?_

"**I actually wanted to see if he's really the jackass you've been complaining about and you were right.**"

_See what I have to put up with?_

P.S.: Thanks for giving attention to my story and thanks DJexe for his beta work. While you wait for my next upload, why don't you guys share some love to the authors some of my favorite works.


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